


we ended up here

by toomanyfandoms_ddc



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Depression, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hozier, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Platonic Relationships, Self-Harm, Sexual Orientation, Social Anxiety, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Tears, Teen Romance, Triggers, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, crying while i write this, what is tagging, will update tags as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-31 22:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyfandoms_ddc/pseuds/toomanyfandoms_ddc
Summary: Birdie Lennox wishes she were dead. She has everything going for her; she's not overtly pretty, but more-so average. She's smart, and has her pick of colleges. She has a beautiful girl who she's casually seeing. She has wonderful and caring friends. Her parents are so involved in her well being. That's not enough. It never had been. Birdie was operating on empty, and losing the people closest to her only pushed her that much closer. Birdie wishes she could feel.Augustus, better known as August, wishes he had the support of his friends. He chose Gwen as his girlfriend because he was finally happy; but alone at night, he wonders what happy is. Does he really know?Bree and Taylor broke up. That should have been the end of it. Until Bree found comfort in the arms of Todd... Which would be perfectly fine, except for the simple fact Todd and Taylor used to be best friends.Sam didn't know how he felt; somewhere between lost and indifferent, he wondered if he really was capable of love.But most of all, Birdie wondered how she alone was supposed to hold these broken few together.





	1. Prologue

     The storm raged on outside. The trees crackled in the winds, and the howling of said winds caused everyone with adequate hearing to wince at the sharp, harsh whistle. The thunder shook the house, but none of that mattered in that single moment. In that moment, a choice was being made. Birdie’s choice was being made.

“Birdie, darling, please come to dinner,” Her mother called through the thick door. Birdie heard this, and sighed. It’d been two days since she’d fully left the room.  _ Sure,  _ she rationalized,  _ she’d left for junk food, and the restroom, but had she really left? _

“Just a minute, Momma, I’m going to put on a hoodie,” She responded.

     Birdie caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Sunken eyes, once vibrant, lively, and hazel, now seemed dark, reddened, and watery. She caught sight of her long, dark hair, and noticed the stringy tangles that had formed. She recalled it had been at least two days since she’d last showered, and shook her head at the thought. 

     Birdie drew her eyes away from the reflection. She wasn’t unusually slender, nor curvaceous; she managed to always maintain a nice balance. In her two day refusal to interact, however, she managed to completely reshape this. Her stomach appeared more bloated, of which she made note, but also her ribs managed to appear more gaunt, a paradox. She grabbed the hoodie off her floor, taking a quick reassurance smell, and pulled it on.

     Leaving the room felt somehow wrong and like a new start. Sitting at the table were her stepmother, Cameron, and her father, Chase. Together, the Lennox family could quite easily pass for a nuclear family model, minus one child. Birdie had most of her father’s features, feminized, in a sense there could be no denial of her paternity. Cameron, though only Birdie’s mother by marriage, still managed to look as if she herself had given birth to Birdie, with long, brown hair, and mannerisms all unique to the two of them. 

“Hi, sweetheart, how are you,” Cameron prodded.

    Birdie smiled softly, albeit falsely, and responded, “I’m fine, Momma. Just working through some stuff, you know, I’ll be okay.”

    Chase met his daughters eyes, sad, forlorn, and almost hollow. It destroyed him inside. He knew where she was. He’d seen that place, dark and frightening. He knew.

    What, however, put Birdie in this place? What brought her to this empty, shell-like state? Where did she start? Where did her story start?

    This thought plagued Birdie as she picked at the chicken on her plate. The red walls of the kitchen seemed far brighter than they had previously. The whole room seemed to strangle her.

“Hey Mom, I love you, I’m not feeling super great, my stomach hurts. I’m going to lie down. I’ll eat later,” Birdie tried to explain. Cameron sputtered in protest, trying to stop her daughters hasty exit from the room. Chase, however, silenced any protest with a quick glance at Cameron, one that conveyed both worry and love.

“Okay, your Mom and I are in here if you get hungry again,” Chase said softly, to which Birdie nodded.

    Once safely down the hall, and relocated into the haven that was her room, Birdie let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

    The phone on the nightstand vibrated.

    She ignored it.

    It vibrated once again, to which she shoved it off the stand, into the floor. She shoved a stack of papers off one side of her bed, and sat in the spot vacated from their absence. She grabbed the book from its’ place next to the papers, and quickly dove back into the dull romance novel.

    The phone yet again vibrated, this time the sound reverberating through the carpet. Shaking hands turned the page to the book, and hazed eyes struggled to read the pages.

    Birdie’s lungs were surely closing up. Certainly the room was smaller than before. Absolutely the room was getting darker, and there was not a doubt the shadows cast by the lamp were more so manifestations of her grief. The feeling she knew all too well, one of inferiority and uselessness, crept into the room like a stale and lingering breeze. Birdie wasn’t good enough. She was selfish. She was ungrateful. She was rude, and self-centered.

    Birdie had everything, it felt like. She had Blossom, a sweet girl whom she casually went on dates with, who was absolutely gorgeous. Birdie had a family, recently fixed, but still functional. She had Taylor, and Bree; She had Derrick, Willow, Miranda, and Sam; She had Daria, Sunflower, Isabelle, Oliver, Charlie, and even Todd. She was surrounded by people who cared. But even so, she felt alone. After everything that happened, especially between herself and Augustus, she felt hollow. 

    Birdie had everything, so why did she feel as though she possessed nothing? Where did her feeling of helplessness begin?

    Did it begin in her 10th grade year, when she fell in love with someone who she gave her heart to, and he proceeded to be unfaithful the entirety of their ten month relationship?

    Did it begin in 9th grade, when she foolishly stayed with the boy who made her want to die, and whom threatened the same fate upon himself should she leave him?

    Did it begin the year before that, when she was told that she was a freak, and would never have anyone care about her?

    Was it far before that, concerning her birth mother’s abandonment of her? Or Birdie’s separation from her half-sister?

    Did it begin when Augustus looked into her eyes and uttered that he somehow still loved her, yet he’d managed to lose feelings?

    Did it start the year that she’d taken the knife to her skin in an attempt to feel?

    Did it begin with the long nights spent laying awake, and night of waking up to storms raging outside?

    Where did this begin? How far did it go back, she wondered.

    The happiness Birdie gave off to those outside her family, and the actuality of her uncertain emotion was an almost comical contrast.  

    Birdie wondered when she’d feel alive again; because right now, laying in her bed, storm raging outside, phone vibrating like crazy. She’d never felt more dead.


	2. Chapter One: On Natasha, and her Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter gives us an insight on Natasha, Birdie's mother, and her journey throughout Birdie's life. As you can tell by now, the story is segemented, rather than a linear piece.

Lisa Addams, a modest and moderate woman, raised two children, named Natasha and Nathan. Natasha, an active girl, was tall and lean, but dressed for a figure much larger than hers. She had never quite fit in, preferring to hang out with kids far more trouble than what they were worth. Nathan, in contrast, made friends with everyone he encountered, and was a bright and chipper boy. That, however was doomed to change.

“Shit. I can’t. I can’t,” Natasha said softly. The cold tile floor of the bathroom wasn’t the harshest thing Natasha was facing at this moment. She brushed her blonde hair behind her ear, and wiped at the tears tracking down her cheek. Her shaking hands held the test against the box again. Two soft pink lines glared at her.

Pregnant.

“No, no, no, no, no, this… I can’t… I’m not… shit,” She muttered.

Natasha made up her mind in that moment. She couldn’t tell a soul. Natasha’s mother would certainly kill her, and on top of that, Natasha wasn’t even certain whom the father was. It could be Gregory, or Tyler, maybe Devarias, possibly Steve, could be Chase? 

Natasha wasn’t ready for this. She’d just turned 18, she couldn’t have a baby. This would change everything. With a shaking hand placed upon her stomach, she stood from her seated position.

She hid the test deep in the trash can, and exited the room quickly, passing by her brother Nathan along the way. 

“Natasha, whoa, whoa, where’s the fire?” Nathan teased as she passed. Natasha, however, was far from in the mood to play. 

She continued down the hall, and slammed the door to her room, locking it behind her. The walls were closing in, they simply had to be. There was no way on Earth that Natasha could keep this from her mother for that long. The soft purr of a cat alerted Natasha to the presence of Bubbles, her ever snoring cat. He peeked up at her from a hastily made bed, head resting on a pair of her discarded basketball shorts.

A sharp knock at her bedroom door had both her and Bubbles glancing at the source of the sound. A deep breath in, and one out, led Natasha to the door. A moment of contemplation led her to open the door. Nathan stood, confused, holding the test. In that single moment, Natasha felt her body go cold.

“Nat… What, what is this?” 

“Nathan, you know exactly what that is,” Natasha responded.

“You have to be kidding me? Natasha? When?”

Natasha felt the cool trails of tears leaving her eyes, as she brushed a blonde hair behind her ear. It had obviously fallen, she realized, during her run back to the bedroom.

“I don’t know, Nathan, but you have to swear you won’t tell Mom.”

Nathan looked visibly shocked, but nodded. 

“It’s not my secret to tell. But you have to tell them eventually.”

Six months from that moment would pass before Natasha told anyone outside of Nathan. To everyone that asked, she responded that she’s gained weight, and dressed looser, and there was simply no way she could be pregnant. To Nathan, she was a coward, afraid of owning up to her mistake.  Once her mother found out, however, her life changed. She was rarely allowed to leave without someone with her.

Shortly after Natasha’s 19th birthday, a soft, round, and little baby girl was born. Natasha held her close, looked into her big, doe-like eyes, and declared her to be Birdie Elyse Addams, as she was uncertain of whom Birdie’s father was.

Once it was discovered a young man by Chase was Birdie’s father, and once Natasha had crossed her mother one time too many, Birdie was no longer Natasha’s ward. Birdie lived with her grandparents, as Chase could not care for his child, and Natasha became embroiled with another man. Two years after the birth of her first child, Natasha gave birth to her second, Hartley Diane Sheldon.

Shortly after that, the casual nature of her relationship with alcohol became far less casual. Once every few days turned into one a day, turned into one pack, turned into one too many. Then came the harder things, the drugs that only fueled her need to be okay. Natasha had struggled her entire life with the ups and the downs; a true manic-depressive, Natasha sought to level both. In that search, she found irrationality and a driving force that tore her from the arms of her family, from her children, and from herself.

Natasha lost everything that mattered. She soon saw her children grow into their own women, in the arms of their fathers, and not in hers. She lost Birdie before Birdie knew much of life any other way, and she lost Hartley at about four. She still laid awake at night, remembering the last time she’d seen both her children, truly seen their faces. They’d been six and four, Birdie being the elder sister. They’d been so small.

Who were they? Natasha knew only what her mother told her through the phone calls, as both her children were so far removed from her, at least emotionally. Birdie took dance, and was in theatre, and wrote, and did all the things Natasha had never been able to do. She knew Birdie was a near genius, from the books she’d devoured as a child, to the stories she’d told, to the worlds she’d crafted in her small head. Hartley was growing taller by the days, a basketball and softball player, with an eye for mechanics and a concentration for science. Hartley was just as much of a tomboy as Natasha had been, and shared most of Natasha’s features to go along with that. 

She’d missed so much of her children’s lives. Birdie was a year out from adulthood. Hartley was only two behind that. She’d closed her eyes and lost their entire lives. Everything felt different to her now; in contrast to the fast way her early years had been lived, it now felt as if each day drug onward. 

Natasha knew she’d messed up.

But it was too late for her, for her to be a mother, for her to fix it. Hartley had yelled and screamed and thrown things and called and told her that she was no mother to her; that Birdie was the mother she’d needed, that she’d wanted. Birdie had called her two weeks before and calmly explained she wanted no part of Natasha in her life. Natasha called her mother tears streaming down her skin, as Lisa calmly explained to her daughter what she’d done, in not being apart of her children’s lives. Natasha had lost her chance.

She’d keep trying. At least she resolved herself to attempt to do so. Her mother had urged her to never give up her pursuit of her children’s relationship. She simply couldn’t afford to.

In her children’s eyes were hurt, and pain, and betrayal.

In her children’s hearts, however, was Natasha’s redemption.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I am not promising any sort of update schedule, trust me lovelies! But, if you're interested in getting updates as to when the story will be updated, or you'd like to drop into my inbox, check out my tumblr(s):  
> https://www.sweetmisseddreams.tumblr.com  
> https://www.weendeduphere.tumblr.com


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